Dollmaker
by SumbuddyYouDunno
Summary: Amamiya Hibiya was rumored to be a demented man. He had shut himself in his deceased mother's old doll shop. He made and sold dolls for a living. However, there was one doll he refused to sell. "Hiyori..." AU. Crazy!Hibiya. Rated T because I'm not quite sure.


**A/N: Get away from me, bunny! I'll write your damned story already!**

**There is implied HibiHiyo here so if it bothers you that much, please don't read and please don't flame. ~Thank you! *bow* I don't mind HibiMomo at all, for everyone's information. I think it's rather cute ^_^ but of course I preder HibiHiyo~**

**Heheh... I had this idea yesterday and it just won't stop bothering me. Everyone knows that Hibiya makes Hiyori merchandise, right? To be more specific, dolls, right? Well, I would want you to read what my horrible mind has come up with about that fact.**

**It's rather short. Sorry about that...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own KagePro or any of its characters. Despite my genius, I can never really match the genius of its true creator.**

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Amamiya Hibiya was rumored to be a demented man...

When he was a child, people saw him as normal. He went to school and hung around his friends like an ordinary boy. He was a student with well enough grades. He wasn't a rebel nor did he show any signs that he was. He was a good kid.

Years ago, the youth that was Hibiya went to the city, only to return in such a terrible mental state.

People now wonder what happened that he decided to lock himself up in his deceased mother's old doll shop. He barely went out, only doing so to buy food or materials for his doll-making.

Yes, Amamiya Hibiya made dolls and sold them for a living. Many people marvelled at his craftsmanship. They were beautiful with their glass eyes and soft hair, their rounded faces, and dainty limbs. He dressed them in frilly dresses and placed them by the window of the shop.

People were enchanted by the beauty of his dolls and bought them no matter what price they cost. However, there was one doll in particular that he refused to sell.

"I'm sorry, she's not for sale," he told people who asked about the doll.

Nobody knew that he had made this model before. Most of them were in his bedroom or in his craftsroom. He knew the face well. It was a face he had memorized long ago after repetitively making her all these years. It was the model of his first doll.

Of course, this replica could never match the loveliness of the original, Hibiya thought, but who knew he could craft something so fine? Nobody would believe that he'd only started off making stuffed dolls with button eyes and yarn hair.

Anyone's heart could be enraptured by this charming doll that sat with her hands crossed idly on top of her lap. The simplicity of her non-frilly hot pink and black dress did not lessen her beauty at all, yet it even multiplied it. He had sculpted and polished her wooden parts well. Her soft, black, synthetic hair was tied into twin tails that fell over her narrow shoulders. Her brown, glass eyes seemed peaceful as she stared back at the people who viewed her from the streets. Her smile was small on her lips, yet those who see her angelic expression would smile wider than they have ever done so before.

He had carved this one so perfectly that he had to display it on the window for everyone to see. She was always meant to be kept behind glass, so that people could only admire her beauty but never truly have her.

She was only his...

The dollmaker became terrifyingly furious when someone had persisted on buying his most precious creation.

"I already told you that she's not for sale," he screamed at the man, as he threw the money he was handed. "You cannot have her, ever!" he told him. His eye twitched. His hair was a mess. His flesh was tight around his bones from lack of eating. He practically kicked the man out of his shop. The man came hurling towards his truck and hit himself against its side.. "She is mine!" he said as he slammed the door shut.

He leaned against the door for support. His heart pounded from the anger he'd just felt. He watched little droplets from his eyes fall to the floor. "She is mine... She is mine... She is mine... She is mine..." he murmured over and over.

He pushed himself from the door and walked to the doll and took her from the window. He hugged her close, crying... no, grieving. "You are mine," he whispered to the lifeless wooden body.

He had nightmares about her every night where the doll was the actual girl he'd modeled her after. He'd always wake up in the same room and meet her at the same park. In the end, she'd always die brutally, leaving him in deep sorrow. He'd tried many times over to save her from her kismet but had always failed.

"You shall never leave me," he told the doll as he ran his fingers through her hair. He closed the curtains and locked the door of the shop as he cradled her in his arms.

"Hiyori..."

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**A/N: You happy now, bunny?**

**Review. If you want to, I mean...**


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